"Ah me!" sighed Lawless as he gazed at a small heap of documents which lay before him on the cabin table. "It's a weary world, my masters, and full of creditors."

"What's the matter now?" asked Trent, glancing up from a letter he was reading.

"The same as always—viz., 'Dear Sir, We beg to call your attention to the fact that your account is long overdue and that, unless it is settled immediately, we shall be reluctantly compelled'—and so on and so on. What I don't like about these chaps is their infernal priggishness, 'it-hurts-me-more-than-it-hurts-you' tone. Their reluctance to summons me is nothing to my reluctance to be summonsed."

"Buck up! Nelson was dunned, you remember," said Trent.

"Oh, shut up," growled the Lieutenant. "If I happen to have a go of toothache it doesn't do me any good to reflect that Julius CÆsar probably had it before me."

"Try a cup of coffee, it'll soothe you."

"And to think," went on Lawless, ignoring the suggestion, "that there's a thousand pounds waiting for me if only I could pot a Zep."

"Why not write to your creditors and say that as soon as you've brought down a Zeppelin you will settle their accounts in full? Appeal to their patriotism."

"I shan't write at all; let 'em do their worst," answered Lawless, as he rose from the table. "They're a measly lot of bounders, anyway."

He went on deck and, although a white mist was creeping over the sea from the east, gave orders to get under way. Soon the Knat was threading her way out of the Humber towards her alloted beat "somewhere" in the North Sea. Later, when off Spurm Head, instructions were received by wireless to keep a look-out for German warships, as there was a report to the effect that several were steaming in a westerly direction.

"All jolly well to talk about keeping a look-out, but one couldn't see a liner a cable's length away in this fog," grumbled the Lieutenant when he had perused the message.

He looked anxiously into the thick white mist which was closing around them. The Knat was steaming at half speed and in every direction syrens were screeching and bellowing, some close at hand, others far away in the distance. It was, in fact, just the sort of weather that the Germans love when contemplating a raid on some defenceless east-coast port, since they can take advantage of the mist to escape when threatened with the arrival of British warships

"I feel I could just do with a scrap; it would be a sort of tonic," said Lawless as Trent joined him on the bridge. "Demands for money always make me hopping mad."

"I know," replied the junior officer, feelingly.

After several rather narrow escapes from collision with other vessels—which did not tend to improve the Lieutenant's temper—the Knat drew out of the shipping track, greatly to the relief of all on board.

"Thank heaven for a little peace and quietness," said Lawless. "Now we can——"

He stopped abruptly as a dull boom, like a distant clap of thunder, came over the fog-ridden water. The Lieutenant's experienced ears told him that it was not thunder but the sound of heavy guns. Either there was an engagement taking place or else the Germans had crept up through the mist and were bombarding some coast town. Owing to the direction of the wind in relation to the sound, he inclined to the latter supposition.

The dull reverberations of the guns continued and the crew of the Knat, having been piped to quarters, she steamed in the direction from which the firing seemed to come. Still, the wind was light and variable, which made it difficult to determine even approximately the locality of the sounds. The fog, too, was a serious handicap, for, should a warship be sighted, the difficulty of deciding whether she was a friend or an enemy would be enormously increased. War vessels, seen at a distance even on a clear day, look much alike, and in a thick atmosphere it is practically impossible even for an expert to distinguish friend from foe. A wireless message of inquiry, though sent in code, would, of course, defeat its own object should the vessel receiving it be an enemy. Under such circumstances as these, therefore, commanders of small craft like destroyers and submarines are under a grave disadvantage and have to proceed with the utmost caution or run the risk of making a ghastly error.

After proceeding slowly for some little time, Lawless came to the conclusion that the firing was taking place somewhere to the north-west, and he accordingly steered in that direction. As the Knat slowly felt her way through the fog the sound of the guns grew louder and more distinct, thereby confirming the Lieutenant in his decision. He was leaning over the bridge-rail, trying to penetrate the opaque white curtain in front of him, when there came a shout from the deck below.

"Zep, sir, right over'ead, sir!" cried a man.

Lawless looked up and saw, just above the low-lying mist, the dim outline of an enormous object moving slowly in the opposite direction.

"A scouting Zeppelin," he muttered. "If only I had an Archie aboard I'd put a few plugs in her belly."

But, unfortunately, the Knat carried no anti-aircraft guns, and by no possible exercise of ingenuity could the machine-guns, mounted as they were, be made to fire in a vertical direction. So Lawless had to gnash his teeth and watch the airship floating overhead within easy range, yet as safe, so far as he was concerned, as though she were five miles up.

"There goes my thousand quid, so close that I could almost touch her," he said bitterly to Trent. "Isn't it just my luck?"

"Pity we didn't think to rig up one of our Q.F's vertically," remarked the Sub-Lieutenant. "We could easily have done it."

Lawless turned his back on him in disgust. It was quite true that they might have done as Trent suggested, but the idea had not previously occurred to him. It was too late now, for it would take at least half a day to accomplish, and the Zeppelin could hardly be expected to wait complacently while those below made ready for her destruction.

Suddenly there was a loud explosion just to starboard of the destroyer, and a column of water arose so close that, in subsiding, it washed over the deck.

"By Jove, she's dropping bombs!" exclaimed Lawless, at the same time ringing down "Full-speed" to the engine-room.

However, in a few moments they had passed out of danger, and the airship was lost in the mist. The firing to the north-west still continued, though with decreasing vigour, as if fewer ships were engaged. This suggested to Lawless that some of the enemy vessels were drawing off, in which case he might possibly meet one or more on their flight back to the fastnesses of Heligoland.

"This is where we keep our eyes skinned and stand-by for trouble," said the Lieutenant as he reduced speed again. "See anything, Trent?"

"Not yet," answered the latter, who was straining his eyes in an endeavour to penetrate the fog.

About ten minutes afterwards there came the heavy thud of ship's engines going at full speed, though as yet nothing could be seen of the ship itself. The situation for those on board the Knat was one of infinite peril, for they did not know from one moment to another when, from out of the enveloping fog, a great towering mass might hurl itself upon their frail craft and send it to the bottom. Yet for obvious reasons Lawless dared not make any signal or betray his presence to the unknown monster advancing at, probably, between thirty or forty knots an hour.

Suddenly the fog seemed to be thrust aside by a huge bulk, black and solid against the impalpable curtain of mist. For a moment it looked as if the destroyer must inevitably be crushed beneath the ocean Juggernaut advancing upon her.

"Hard a port!" shouted Lawless, and instinctively gripped the bridge-rail as if bracing himself for a terrific shock.

"Hard a port 'tis, sir," echoed the quartermaster, and sent the little wheel spinning round.

Had the Lieutenant hesitated for the fraction of a second before giving the order the Knat would have been cut in twain like a rotten log. But, as it was, the destroyer swerved to starboard in the nick of time, her side almost grazing the bows of the unknown ship as she passed.

"A narrow squeak that," murmured Trent under his breath.

"Could you make anything of her?" asked Lawless as the fog once more closed in on them and hid the other vessel from sight, though her engines could still be heard.

"No," answered the junior officer; "she might be British, German or Dutch for all I can tell."

"Then I think we'll keep on her track for a bit," said the Lieutenant. "Something'll give her away sooner or later."

By this time the sound of firing had died away save for an occasional distant boom, and as it would be useless to try and locate the scene of action now, Lawless did the best thing possible in following the ship which had so nearly run him down. If she were a British cruiser no harm would be done; while, were she German—well, there would be some exciting moments in store for both.

So far, however, her nationality could not be ascertained, and so Lawless, guided by the sound of her engines, kept abreast of her as near as he could judge. While the fog lasted he could not hope to identify her by sight, but a chance occurrence, such as a bugle call, a loud order given on deck, or a call on the pipe, might afford a clue. Meanwhile it was necessary to prevent those on board from suspecting the presence of a destroyer so close at hand, for, should the Knat be sighted, the chances were a hundred to one that, friend or foe, the strange vessel would open fire on her without waiting to make inquiries.

For nearly an hour the two vessels continued to pound along in a south-easterly direction, each hidden from the other by the enveloping fog.

"Something's got to be done," said Lawless at last. "In my opinion she's a German, for she's certainly laying a course towards Heligoland, and if we're not mighty careful we'll find ourselves in a trap. Point is, how the devil are we to make the skipper give himself away?"

"Send a wireless in English. If he's——"

"No good," broke in the Lieutenant. "If he's a German he'd savvy the dodge and play up to us."

The fog was now beginning to show signs of clearing overhead, though it still lay thick upon the sea. There was every prospect of its soon disappearing altogether, and then, perhaps, the mystery of the unknown vessel would be solved and her fate—or that of the Knat—decided.

"Look!" shouted Trent abruptly, but before Lawless could follow the upward direction of his gaze something fell in the water just astern and then came the sound of a loud explosion. Others followed in quick succession, some of the bombs falling so close to the destroyer that the men standing by the torpedo tubes were drenched by the water they threw up. There was no need to inquire as to the cause of these unpleasant phenomena, they were due to a Zeppelin hovering above—probably the same one which had been encountered earlier in the day.

"That settles it," said Lawless. "We're in company with a German cruiser and her guardian angel."

He had only just finished speaking when there was a deafening boom on the port side and a volley of shells went hurtling over the destroyer, one of them snapping her wireless mast in two like a twig. Obviously the Zeppelin, having sighted the Knat and notified the fact in the usual way with bombs, had warned her sea consort of the destroyer's proximity by wireless, and the cruiser had answered by firing more or less haphazard into the fog. In fact, she came very near sinking her unseen enemy and would have probably succeeded had not her guns been trained at too high an angle.

Lawless, now that his doubts were at rest, lost no more time, all the men were at their stations in readiness and there was no further reason to delay an action. His object now was to creep up abreast of the cruiser until he could launch a torpedo with a fair chance of its getting "home." This manoeuvre, however, was not by any means easy, for it necessitated exposing the Knat to the enemy's fire, and if only one shot made good it would almost certainly mean an end of the adventure so far as the destroyer and her crew were concerned. Moreover, the airship was still dropping bombs and keeping her consort informed as to the enemy's position.

The first two attempts to torpedo the German proved unsuccessful, and in both cases the Knat was driven off with the loss of several men killed and wounded, while the machine-gun aft on the bandstand had been wrecked by the only air-bomb which, up to the present, had struck the vessel. With such odds against him, Lawless would have been quite justified in drawing off; but to retire before a superior foe is not one of the ways they have in the Navy. Therefore the Lieutenant prepared for a third attempt, which, as the mist had begun to clear, was likely to prove the last whatever the issue might be.

"We've got to pull it off this time or go to the bottom," he said.

"Ten days' leave or good-bye all," commented Trent grimly.

The Knat, which had fallen a little astern of her hoped-for victim, darted forward at full speed and, as she came up on the cruiser's starboard quarter, was met by a terrific fire. The two for'a'd funnels were reduced to the condition of sieves, the wireless room was smashed to splinters, and Lawless himself narrowly escaped death from a shell which burst just above the bridge. The quartermaster was killed on the spot, but as he fell Lawless sprang to the wheel and took charge of it himself.

"Stand by!" he roared to the men at the torpedo tubes, and then as the Knat, reeling under the blast of fire, came abreast of the cruiser, he shouted "Fire!"

The shining messenger of death leapt from the port tube and, as it did so, a shell struck the destroyer amidships. There was a loud explosion; from the engine-room gratings there issued clouds of smoke and scalding steam; the shrieks of wounded and scalded men arose above the din, and the Knat, struck in a vital spot, canted over on her port side and began to settle. She, at any rate, had fought her last fight.

"Pipe all hands stand by to abandon ship!" roared the Lieutenant, and somewhere amid the drifting grey fog there came the sound of another explosion.

The destroyer gave another lurch and the water came swirling over her decks.

"Abandon ship! Every man for himself!"

The men sprang into the sea, and not a moment too soon. As Lawless gave his last order there came the sound of another explosion in the engine-room and, before the steam from the shattered boilers had cleared away, nothing remained of the gallant little vessel but a mass of crumpled metal at the bottom of the North Sea and some wreckage floating upon the surface.

Lawless, who was still at the wheel when the Knat took her final plunge, was drawn down by the suction of the sinking vessel. Instinctively he struck out as soon as the waves closed above his head, but it seemed to him that he must be miles and miles below the surface. A horrible feeling of impending suffocation and an almost intolerable pressure on his lungs oppressed him as he struck upwards. At last, when his chest felt as if it were about to burst, he reached the surface and trod water while he sucked in deep breaths of air. Then, through the thin veil of mist, he caught sight of what looked like the hull of a vessel or, at any rate, something solid and capable of affording support. He started to swim towards it, hoping it might be some ship which had arrived on the scene since the fight, and not caring much whether it proved to be a friend or an enemy.

In a few minutes he was alongside, and had caught hold of some tackle hanging from a spar. Hauling himself up, he managed to get astride the spar, and then realised that the vessel had a heavy list to port. Too dazed to draw any significant deductions from this, he worked his way along the spar till he found himself looking down upon a slanting deck, littered with wreckage and apparently deserted. Then, and not till then, he realised where he was.

He had unwittingly climbed aboard the German cruiser, which was sinking and had been abandoned by her crew. Obviously, therefore, his last torpedo had found its billet, and the cruiser had been hit at the moment when victory seemed hers—it was a great consolation.

The Lieutenant's first thought was to dive back into the sea, and he was about to do this when a noise above his head made him look up. A Zeppelin, no doubt the same one which had been piloting the cruiser, was hovering above, evidently with the object of ascertaining what had happened to the combatants.

"Lord, if I could only bring that thing down," reflected Lawless, forgetting his own peril for the moment.

His eye wandered over the deserted decks, and then he gave a sudden whoop of joy. Not twenty yards from where he stood were a couple of anti-aircraft guns, and, without stopping to weigh the consequences, he crossed to one of them, found it was loaded, and at once trained the muzzle on the ponderous mass hovering overhead. Then he fired.

A shell went whistling up, and passing through or over the gondola—he could not be sure which—exploded immediately beneath the gas envelope. There was a flash of flame and the sound of an explosion, but before the smoke had cleared away Lawless had trained the second gun on the airship and fired again. Then, without waiting to ascertain the result of his shots, he took a header into the sea and, on reaching the surface, swam as hard as he could towards a piece of floating wreckage. He threw an arm over this and, thus supported, turned round to see what was happening.

The sight which met his astonished gaze was tragic and terrible in the extreme. Piled upon the tilting side of the German cruiser was a great flaming mass sending up a cloud of smoke and sparks—all that remained of the great airship. Only for a second or two was Lawless able to gaze at this fearful spectacle of calamity heaped upon calamity to which sea and air had each contributed a quota, for, with a quivering lurch, the cruiser rolled completely over and disappeared beneath the waters, dragging the burning remains of the Zeppelin with it.

"Congratulations! You'll be able to stand me a dinner at the Savoy now."

Lawless turned his head and saw Trent a few yards away clinging to an empty water beaker and looking quite abnormally cheerful. But the Lieutenant was still oppressed by the tragedy he had witnessed, and the junior's flippant remark jarred upon him.

"Shut up," he growled.

"Oh, all right," answered Trent, in an injured tone; "but I should have thought that the prospect of handling that thousand quid would have made you more amiable."

As a matter of fact it had not occurred to Lawless until that moment that he had won his uncle's wager and was, therefore, entitled to the thousand pounds. But now, strange to say, he did not feel elated in the least degree; the triple tragedy in which the Knat, the German cruiser and the Zeppelin had been involved, together with, probably, the loss of several hundred men, dwarfed everything else for the time being.

"How many of our men have gone under do you think?" he asked.

"Can't say, though I'm afraid we've lost between twenty and thirty. But that's nothing compared with the enemy's losses."

As he spoke, Trent pointed to various small groups of figures swimming about or hanging on to pieces of wreckage. Some were survivors of the Knat, some of the German cruiser, and in several cases men who less than a quarter of an hour ago had been endeavouring to kill one another were now rendering each other mutual help—such are the uncertainties of war.

"Even now," went on the Sub-Lieutenant, "the chances are that we shall all be drowned before——"

He was interrupted by a shout from Lawless and, looking round, saw a couple of destroyers approaching at full speed, followed by several patrol boats.

"Saved!" he ejaculated.

A few minutes later the destroyers had arrived on the scene and lowered boats to pick up the survivors, friend and foe alike. Among the last to be rescued were Lawless and his junior officer, and when the boats had returned to the destroyers the latter made off at full speed towards the land, leaving nothing but a few masses of floating dÉbris as witnesses of that memorable fight.

"It's all right," said Lawless, looking up from a letter as he and Trent sat at breakfast in a certain old-fashioned hostelry off the East Coast. "The old boy's dubbed up."

"You mean he's handed over the boodle?" asked Trent with interest.

"Yes; he sent a cheque to the major yesterday, who's paid it into my account."

"Lucky pig, you."

"And that's not all," went on Lawless. "Seen to-day's paper?"

"Not yet."

"Well, then, look at this."

The Lieutenant handed over the paper and placed his finger on "Naval Appointments." Trent leaned forward and read: "Lieutenant-Commander F. H. Lawless, H.M.S. Knat, promoted to Commander."

"Congrats!" he cried. "You'll be an admiral some day if you are not very careful."

"Don't mention it. If you persevere in your profession and cultivate habits of cleanliness and sobriety, you may become even as I, my son."

"Returning to that little matter of the thousand pounds," said Trent, "don't you think you might pay that half-quid you've owed me for the last eighteen months?"

"Great Scot, I thought you'd forgotten it. 'Pon my soul you have a tenacious memory, Trent," answered Lawless. "However," he went on condescendingly, "I'll see what I can do for you. What with the super-tax, the increased duty on motor-cars, and other drains on a fellow's income——"

He broke off abruptly, crossed to the window and stood watching a patrol boat which had just come fussily into harbour. When Trent joined him there he was puzzled to find his senior plunged in gloom.

"Well, for a fellow who's just come into money——" he remarked in disgust.

"Do you remember," asked Lawless dreamily, "how gallantly she behaved in that scrap with the Lansitz and her attendant destroyers?"

Trent stared for a moment.

"Oh, you're thinking of the old Knat," he said, a light breaking in on him.

"And again in that storm off the coast of Northumberland?"

Trent nodded; he, too, was sobered now.

"Well," said Lawless with passion, "she had a glorious end; but do you think I can exult over a paltry thousand pounds when she's at the bottom of the sea? I wouldn't have lost her, no, not for——"

The sentence remained unfinished and Lawless stared moodily out to sea again.

THE END.

Printed in Great Britain by W. H. Smith & Son, The Arden Press,
Stamford Street, London. S.E.